Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Roses and Gravestones.

We had another, very satisfying rehearsal this evening. So far, we are swimming. I'm having a great time.

But... Today was about roses and other flora.

I was out on my walk earlier this afternoon and noticed the neighborhood was blooming with roses! The first exquisite example I found was just down the street and around a corner.
Perfection really. I walked along and found a lovely pink rose. The sun is a little bright in this photo, but there you have it.
I think the most extraordinary flowers are the multi-colored ones. How do they do this?

As my rose hunt continues I came upon these remarkable views, minutes from my home.
Don't you want to wander down that path? I do, but alas, I was wearing flip flops. Inadvisable.

Not roses, but strange flowers. I've never discovered the name for these particular specimens. Readers?
The flowers were blowing in the soft breeze.

My return walk found this lonely rose, trying to bloom through all the beauty around it. Look closely.

Finally, my roses. And, the longer view...

My loquat tree. It is, after all, a member of the rose family, and the fruit is succulent!

These last two pictures I've been meaning to share. My mother is buried here in Central California. She would have just loved this.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The Job Hunt, Part 9, And The Reward.

I think there is nothing I'd rather do than wander the lanes and byways around my home, examining new flowers blooming, watching the mockingbirds attack the crows, watching the crows tease the hawks, the deer wandering nearby, and the friendly people smiling and greeting me as I pass by. I love coming home from these walks to cook dinner for my husband. He is such a good sport, and will tolerate every experiment I present to him. "Hey! Here's dinner." Next time the recipe will be successful. He eats it all. I love that.

And yet.

I've had too many weeks without work and all of a sudden (because I've said "yes" to everything) I'm working everyday. Hooray. I love working on my little contract at the LATC. The show is great and I am already proud of it. I had so much frantic fun calling the Spotlight Awards at the Music Center last Saturday. I'm looking forward to my next show at the Intiman in Seattle, LA, and Johannesburg without any trepidation. Oh, I clearly need to work. Even with the simplest show I find joy. There is just nothing like sitting in rehearsal and doing the work. It all makes me happy.

I will have time to walk. I will have time to cook. But, right now... I will treasure the work. I will enjoy the need. I will revel in the day to day business of putting on a show.

The Job Hunt will always continue. This is the nature of our particular beast. The off-time is the hardest. The work, the creation and presentation of a grand piece of theatre, is the reward.

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Surprising Day.

Some days end in odd and new ways.

Friday, I got up earlier than usual because I was interviewing by phone for a 5 month long job in Seattle, L.A. and Johannesburg. The interview went very well. (I received an offer later that afternoon.) I then went to the post-office and had my passport renewed. Worst picture ever! I spent the rest of the afternoon on the computer working on my local show that goes into rehearsal soon. I then drove to a meeting for another job, co-stage managing (with my best bud) a scholarship awards show for teenagers. After the meeting the producers were so happy to have hired us they hugged us both... repeatedly. They were grateful. So nice. (And now we have to spend the time to do a really good job! We are paid for 2 days. We'll end up spending 4 days for them. Ah, good will. There is no price one can put on that.)

Left the meeting just after rush hour(s) and went to dinner with my dad. Nothing special, just our usual Friday routine. Some background. My dad lives up a private road that serves 3 family homes. The road is clearly there, though not clearly demarcated. My dad lives on a hill about 14 acres, next to a hill separated by this private road. On the other hill is the Ararat Home, an Armenian retirement community. They've been good neighbors, but on this particular night they were having some kind of "event". Lots of people in and out. We came to the entrance of the only road to my father's house and it was blocked. 2 cars had doubled parked and one had triple parked completely blocking the entrance to the road. It was like the driver thought he'd reached a dead-end. My father and I did the responsible thing, we went up to the Ararat Home and tried to talk to the front desk. Alas, they didn't speak much English. We got through enough to them that the administrator of the building finally came down to speak with us... I'm shortening this for time... lots of frustration occurred, my father is 85 and it was time for him to crawl into bed...I was mad. Well, the administrator went to the party and told us later he'd announced the license plate, make and model number EIGHT times with no response. I told him I would call the police and have it towed. He said, "Yes! the police should be involved." He was clearly as frustrated as we were. We had now been waiting about 30 minutes. I called 311. (Non-life threatening emergency number in LA) got connected to parking enforcement, (they were very busy) and my dad and I settled in. Dogs walked by. People came out to look. We were quite the oblique attraction.

Well. We had noticed a bit earlier a group of about 6 - 7 teenage boys come walking out of the darkness, down an alternate road owned by my dad. They passed our car, chatting. My dad and I decided they were just some kids smoking pot on the lower part of his property. No big deal. Happens from time to time. We laughed about it.

Later, bored, we got out of the car and spoke to the Ararat parking lot attendants, hoping they could help us. 3-4 older teenagers walked by. They were in black pants and shirt sleeves. I looked as they passed and whispered to my dad, "They are wearing yamulkes." Where did they come from? They all walked passed the Ararat Home and seemed unconnected to the charity, party event. Truly, they came out of nowhere. This generated a discussion that of course some Armenians are Jews, but mostly Christians and not too much Muslim.

Time passed, I called 311 again, because we'd now been waiting about an hour and they said they'd send someone as soon as they could, but apparently, every night in Los Angeles, people are parking where they block other peoples' access. Patience.

Then. Another group of men this time walked passed our car. These men were definitely in black pants, tailored shirts, yamulkes and BEARDS! They'd all come from my dad's property. One was easily in his sixties. They didn't even look up at the Ararat home. (We are nowhere there. My dad's home is the most country one can be and still live in L.A. County. My dad's home is behind a storage facility, a football field and a hospital. He does live next door to a Jewish Cemetery. Uh.. It was 10:45 at night. The cemetery was closed. Very few family homes up there. 3 to be precise.) Were did these people come from? Why were they there? Such a mystery.

We'd been waiting about an hour and a half at this point. We lost it. I'd said earlier, "Dad, they are Jews. What are they doing walking across your property?" With the last bunch I said, "Oh, my, god, DAD! They are Hassidic! We have Hassidic Jews walking across your property!" He said, "It's a gang! A gang of Hassidic Jews." We laughed until we cried. We couldn't get our heads around the mystery. (Why? Why were they (as it turned out) repeatedly wandering around on private property?) It all seemed so harmless, we just never said a thing.

After 2 hours sitting in my car, I will say my father and I took way too much pleasure watching, as the police arrived, ticketed 3 cars and towed 2 cars. (Evil Pleasure.) We marveled at how fast those tow-truck drivers got those two huge SUV's up on their flatbeds. We'd arrived at the access road at 9pm. I drove my dad to his door at 11pm. (He actually said to me as I drove him home, "We should hide in the bushes and watch the drama unfold.")

We'd spent most of the time laughing. We'd talked about the arrogance and how counter-intuitive arrogance is to society. I had a cigarette, maybe two. We giggled a long time about the Hassidic gangs roaming private roads at 11pm in Mission Hills. We profusely thanked Stuart, the parking enforcement policeman, who finally came and helped us. (He was supposed to be off by then. He was very apologetic. I hugged him, I was so grateful.)

It was a long day. But, it was a full day.
I wish you all days like I had, last Friday, new and ever surprising.

Friday, April 16, 2010

My Calling.

Had I not been fired, (fuck "let go") I'd now be in San Diego doing what we call pre-production. I'd be getting all the paper work ready, I'd be making sure the rehearsal spaces were prepared and I'd be collecting rehearsal props and costume pieces so we could jump into a 3 show rehearsal period.

Things change.

Change is good.

I've had a bit of a hard time these last few months, as you, my readers know. (We have a peculiar saying in my business. When asked the question, "What's next?" We invariably answer, "I'll never work again.") Shows the level of our insecurity, don't you think?

So, I'm pro-active. I took a job on a very small contract. LOA to HAT for those of you who know what that means... Great Job! I'm loving it. I am doing exactly what I'd be doing at the Globe. But, complicated because the theatre is just coming into the world of real professional theatre, and exciting because I get to help them do that.

Tomorrow is another story. I'm essentially interviewing for a job that will take me to Seattle, back to L.A. and then on to Johannesburg. Wow and Yeah! South Africa! I've been a little trepidatious about the whole thing until just now. As I write this on my blog, I find... I have to do this!

This is what I do. And, and some point, I have to accept that I am a gypsy. We are all gypsies. We go where we need to, to do the art.

I don't want to leave my husband or my father. But. I want to work. No, I have to work. This is my calling.

I will be brave. I will say yes.

Thursday, April 8, 2010

A Little Vacation.

We are going on a trip tomorrow! This is a tentative toe poke into the traveling waters. It has been years since either one of us has traveled further than San Diego. My husband's chronic condition has prevented us from attending movies or parties or simply going out for dinner.

I'm excited. He's excited. We are traveling to Sacramento (woo) to celebrate my brother's 60th birthday. The entire family will be there. (We are 22.) On the way we will stop in Santa Nella and spend the night. It is the geographic center of California, out in the middle of nowhere. Let's see, the closest town is Turlock. My mother is buried in Santa Nella.

My mother was in the Navy in WWII. She met my dad in the Navy. She is a veteran and would love that we put her in a veteran's cemetery. Her children are spread all over California and she would love that we shared her with each other. She was born in Texas, but California was her home. I haven't been to Santa Nella in years and it is now time to visit. I'm told the grass has grown very green and that she is surrounded by the barley fields she loved so much. (Sting called them "fields of gold.")

I booked a hotel in Santa Nella with room service, just in case traveling and eating in a restaurant becomes too difficult. My husband and I will be together and laugh and talk and will leave the stress of home behind.

The next day we travel to Sacramento. We will only be an hour and a half away. Easy-peasy.

I'm looking forward! Yay! A trip with a destination and a celebration at the end. We will come home on Sunday. (I have to teach Monday.) But, for all those hours we will be outside time, in joy and with each other.

Little joys. The best.

Wednesday, April 7, 2010

Taxes and Managing Money.

I finished the taxes today and mailed them off. What a relief. Done. I never appreciate how much the taxes weigh on my mind until I carefully, obsessively-compulsively drive the envelopes to the post-office and slide them in the slot myself. I have to do it. Only then can I let that anxiety go. Letting it go.

I do our taxes. I won't hire someone. I figure I'm as smart as any CPA and I trust myself far more than some stranger. On average and with the help of my husband, it takes me about 5 1/2 hours. I honestly think if I hired someone, it would take me 8 hours to put together my receipts and logs so I could pay this someone else to insert the numbers. Thought I'd save the money and do it myself.

I've been audited twice. I won one completely and won half on the other. (I was a little confused on one point.) Pretty good record. My taxes are fairly complicated.

I find that it is best to be as honest as one can be, find all one's receipts, follow the instructions and not be afraid to take the deductions one is allowed.

My point may be: We should be able to do our own taxes. It shouldn't be so difficult or cause so much dismay. I don't have a problem paying my fair share of taxes. I know I am paying for police and streets and education and fire protection. We shouldn't be put in a position where we worry and retreat and postpone.

We pay our other bills on time. Well, this is just another bill for the protection, support and help that we receive every day. It is just another bill.

I'm satisfied my husband and I have paid our share to help fund our country. I just think our CFO (read "Congress") may need to do a better job managing that money.

Gosh, I've become more political in my blog than I ever wanted to be. Next week I'll talk about art and the nature of art and why we do things for free. (Or, maybe not.)

Thursday, April 1, 2010

True Patriots.

I heard my husband say to a dear friend of ours, "They think the world is what they play." I understood. The children who have become so violent are playing out, in real life, the video games; the violence ubiquitous in the gaming.

They think the world is what they play. Hmm.

Later this evening, I thought, "Republicans think the world is what they pay."

A disturbing thought and frustrating because I don't want to think of Republicans as my enemy. I know (and love) too many. I know good, loving and thoughtful people who are defensive and aggressive and embarrassed and re-thinking, but so dedicated to the Republican Party that they are unwilling to see a singular truth.

We need help.

We don't need a "party of no." We need thinking people who will help all of us, Republican, Democrat, Independent, Green, whatever... Congress is supposed to represent us ALL! It does not matter to which party the elected official belongs. Our elected officials are supposed to speak for us in our smaller communities. I've never seen that happen. My rep. is supposed to represent me whether or not I voted for her. I don't get the wrangling.

Help us.

Help us. On my small block, we have 30% unemployment. We are a working class neighborhood. WE HAVE 30% UNEMPLOYMENT.

Outrageous.

No one is helping. No one is there. Not democrats, not republicans, not the green party, not the libertarians, not the scientologists, not the independents. (I don't capitalize because I respect none...)

We think, those of you who have time and money for politics care only about your own reputation. None of you address the real day to day needs of the people who depend on you. None of you are really listening to what is important.

I will tell you. We can't find jobs. We want to work, but there is no work. We can't pay our medical bills. We want to, but they are just too expensive. We don't understand why you spend so much money in Iraq when we want the soldiers home. We want our children educated and our streets repaired. We send you tax money that strips our ability to pay our phone bill. We manage our own budgets better than any expert you seem to have.

Step Up and Stop It!

Help us!

Help us live our lives taking care of our children, working in environments that won't give us cancer, and leaving a world to our grandchildren that includes pandas.

This is the job you've been given. You are elected officials. Do what is right, not politically expedient.

I have faith you will all come to your senses. Do it now. It is not about "party." It is about Our Country.

Be True Patriots!